Fruit of the Poisonous Tree
by Dorus the Walrus
Summary: He has killed so many people, but I control him now. I control what he does and does not do. I have the power. But, sometimes, I still let him kill.


Author's Note: This is a reworking of my one-shot _Serpents in the Trees_ (also called _Dirty Things_). I disliked the way I wrote it and felt that I could do better, plus I wanted to describe the inner workings of Tahir's host better. His thoughts were inspired by _Hamlet_, by the way, so blame Shakespeare for the creepyness and perversion. This is set before the Animorphs, not long after the Yeerks began to invade Earth.

**Fruit of the Poisonous Tree**

I should have known better. I just knew it was too good to be true. Who ever heard of a nobody like me getting a human, one of the best species available for infestation, fresh from the pool? I thought I was just lucky. I guess I still am, I suppose. I have the noble destiny of paving the way for the glorious Yeerk Empire; at least that's what they keep telling me. But, this just can't be right. There's something wrong with the humans, or it could just be him. I could have a broken one. One with a disease.

_She belonged to a whorehouse. In a way, they all do. They paint their faces and send you coy smiles as though you meant something to her. They pretend and when you think the chase is over and you've finally got her, you realize it was all just a game. She's laughing at me. That's why I looked into her eyes when I did it, so she would know that it was me._

I tried to block the flooding memories, unconsciously closing my host's eyes as the scenes unfolded. It's hard to control it sometimes. Thoughts come up unbidden. It confuses me, I find it hard to tell which ones belong to him and which ones belong to me. I tried talking to people about this. Most of the time I get scolded for not having a better control over my host. I even tried to take it up with Visser Three, but I was ignored. Understandably, Visser Three is quite busy. But, I just want it to stop. I don't want to look at the women anymore. I don't want to see what he did with them. This isn't how it's supposed to be. Nobody told me about this when they said how great, how wonderful, human hosts were. This isn't great. And this isn't wonderful.

_I dragged the knife slowly across her skin. The blood didn't gush out like it does in the movies, it just ran out. Like water, but thicker. It was a fair sight between her legs._

I suppose I do know what he means. I can see it happening. Happened. It gets confusing sometimes. I don't remember using pronouns and past tenses and future tenses before I got my host. I'm not sure how I talked. I can't remember how I thought either. Did I think in English? Or did I think… We used ultrasound. I talked by using ultrasonic squeaks. I don't remember thinking in ultrasound, though. I'll remember when tomorrow comes, I go back to the pool then and it'll all come back to me.

_It wasn't easy to tame her. But, I managed. After all, she deserved it. Women are just like the serpent. They slide on their bellies and wrap themselves around that snake. When you take a bite from that fruit the only thing you can expect is retribution._

It really wasn't easy to tame her, I had to – no, I didn't. I didn't do that. Sometimes, I forget. It's hard to remember when I see his memories. They're always there. Constantly flashing before me of what he did and what he wants to do. When I first entered him they haunted me. I felt sick, and disgusted, and afraid, but I also felt good about myself. I was saving the human race from him. There is obviously something wrong with him and I felt like a good person keeping him in check. But, now, I just don't know. I guess I've grown used to them. Background noise. I suppose that should frighten me ever more, but it doesn't. I sometimes wonder if I will turn out like him. Will I one day get the urge to hurt someone? To choke the life out of them? No, I won't. I just have to remember who I am. I'm not him. I'm Tahir 8995. I'm not-

_Hands create the loveliest flowers, purple violets and black pansies, they would bloom across her throat and around her collarbone, barely reaching the top of her breasts. A garland of flowers, opening for me. A lovely sight, to be sure_.

I have to agree.

**Fin**


End file.
